Seconds
by IckleRayOfSunshine
Summary: Oneshot, Edwin. There's a first time for everything.


**Warnings: **Mentions of sex and Edward's filthy vocabulary. Also may contain post-manga spoilers!

* * *

Their first time had been awkward.

When asked about it later, either Edward _or_ Winry would blush and stammer that it just sort of _happened_, and then nothing else would be said on the matter. It had been largely unplanned, true, and mainly a case of finding out where things were ("Oh, hey, what's this bit?") and what they did, which involved much experimental poking. Then, after some hurried reminders ("What, were you planning on NOT using protection, you jerk!?") it had hurt her, which had freaked Edward out a lot ("Oh my God, what, are you alright!?") to which Winry just gave him a glare that said 'of course it hurts, you moron, now stop stopping to check on me'.

After that, they'd fallen into a brief sort of rhythm, which hadn't been too bad. At least, not until Edward had noticed...well, he didn't like to think about that much either. ("Fuck, Winry, you're _bleeding_!") Winry had at first panicked a little, but regained her composure surprisingly quickly for someone who was, indeed, bleeding, and proceeded to smack him over the head with an open palm. ("Of course I am, that's what _virgins_ do, now just shut up and get back in there!")

He shut up and got back in there, grumbling to himself about stubborn idiot women and secretly hoping she wouldn't bleed to death because of him.

It hadn't lasted much longer after that – Edward had put his foot down, so to speak, and decided if she was hurting that much it wasn't worth carrying on with. She hadn't been entirely happy with that decision (were her eyes watery from the pain?) but complied nonetheless, which led to the silent cuddling afterwards, in which Edward contemplated what he could now never come back from. Was that it? What on earth was the big deal about that? He always knew that Mustang was slightly screwed up, but if that's what he'd been chasing after all these years, then he had some issues.

Their first time had been awkward.

And a couple of weeks later, Edward was still avoiding her.

* * *

He would be twenty-two in the New Year. They'd succeeded, five years ago, in saving their country and its citizens, and he had been largely unprepared in this new swathe of potential normal life in front of him. In front of _them_. Edward and Alphonse had succeeded in their journey, having regained Alphonse's body (though Edward's limbs had remained automail – he'd never have given up the chance to get Al back in exchange for a measly arm and leg), and they were now free to do more or less whatever they pleased.

After Alphonse had become strong enough, having been severely malnourished and weak, they had travelled back to Resembool where Winry did indeed cry tears of happiness. It had all really stemmed from there. Winry had opened up a small automail shop in Rush Valley, to which Edward still visited frequently. He may not have been in the military anymore, but he was still a fighter and proved as such in many a bar brawl. Alphonse had grown to grudgingly accept that a leopard couldn't change its spots, but that never stopped Winry beating the living daylights out of her best customer whenever he rolled back into town with his arm hanging off his shoulder by a few wires.

He sat, now, on a dusty bench not too far away from Winry's shop. He didn't like to spend the day in there when he was staying with her, especially not after what had happened a fortnight ago. His face still burned from the thoughts of his utter incompetence. He'd considered approaching someone else about it...Mustang? Hell no, that bastard wouldn't be able to say anything for the giggles. Hawkeye (though that technically wasn't her name anymore) was a woman, so that kind of ruled her out. Maybe Havoc? Heaven knows he'd been a decent "older brother" figure in the past. But no, Edward didn't want to bother him with such a trivial issue, not when Havoc was occupied with the new baby. A smile found its way onto Edward's face – things had changed, and it was wonderful.

Someone sat next to him, and he glanced up to see Alphonse's profile silhouetted against the sun. Edward grinned. He wasn't sure he could ever get used to the wonder that was seeing his baby brother grow up. He was tall, a little taller than he was (he thought, grudgingly) and was still caught up in the gangly teenager stage of development, petering off it and slowly changing into a young man who reminded Edward all too much of their mother.

"You look mopey."

The grin melted into a scowl. "Yeah, well. Just thinking is all."

Alphonse leaned back, frowning himself. "You've been doing an awful lot of that this past week or so. Winry's worried."

Edward froze, then slid his gaze up to meet his brother's. "Well, she shouldn't be. I'm fine." He could talk to Alphonse about it, yes. But this was his little brother, and he never really asked anything about Edward's love life.

"She's not, though. You barely talk to her anymore. You wake up, get yourself breakfast, go out and then don't come home until dinnertime. Then Winry makes dinner, you eat without a word, thank her for it and go upstairs, not to her room, but a patient room. What part of that doesn't scream 'something is wrong' to you?"

Alphonse kept his eyes on his brother's, gold to gold, until Edward looked away with a sigh. He didn't say anything, but fidgeted, and Alphonse noticed the faint pink dusting of a blush creeping across Edward's cheeks, up his neck and over his ears. It wasn't hard to tell what Edward was thinking, brotherly bond notwithstanding. Then he took a deep breath and spoke.

"A couple weeks ago, Winry and I..." he said quietly, swallowing before picking up his sentence, "we...had sex."

Ah. That explained _everything_. Alphonse nodded, traces of a sly grin at the corners of his mouth. When Edward didn't continue, Alphonse inquired further. "...And?"

Edward shrugged, and looked away. "It was...awkward. I don't know. I think I messed it up."

Alphonse had to suppress a bark of laughter at this. Of _course_, it was _so _'Edward' to be able to deal with homunculi and chimera and serial killers and save the entire country easy as pie and be back by breakfast, but when it came to such _normal_ things as this, completely lose his footing. God, he loved his brother. He coughed, masking his amusement, and put on his very best concerned expression. "Messed it up how? Oh my God, Ed, what did you do to her? You knew where everything was, didn't you?"

"Yes, I knew where everything was!" Edward snapped, "...Eventually. And anyway, that wasn't it. I just...it hurt her, and I might have freaked out a little, and did you know women _bleed_, Al!? I thought she was gonna die!"

Alphonse blinked. "Yeah, I know they bleed. Well, sometimes. Usually."

The matter-of-fact tone in his brother's voice took Edward aback, and left him gaping like a goldfish. "And just how many girls have you deflowered since we got your body back?" he asked lightly, sarcastically, expecting a shove and a 'shut up' for his trouble. A grin curved up one side of his mouth.

"Three."

..._Three?_

His _baby brother_ had slept with _three whole women?_

...He was going to _kill_ Mustang.

"Wh-when was this!?" Edward spluttered, unsure whether to be shocked or indignant that Alphonse had gotten there first.

Alphonse, meanwhile, was torn between pure hysterics and keeping his composure for his poor brother. "Well, it wasn't _all at once_, Edward!"

"I should hope not!" Edward retorted, absolutely scarlet now. Little innocent Alphonse, going out and...honestly. He was the older brother; he had to worry about the sorts of things that happened to him. He wanted to interrogate Alphonse about when this had all been, how it had all happened, and why on earth he hadn't known about it. He wouldn't hesitate to kick those women's asses if he had to. He huffed and sat back, pushing back his older-brother-duties and was silent for a moment before remembering the actual point of the conversation. "...So what was it like for you?"

Alphonse shrugged. "First time was a little touch-and-go, sure, but probably better than yours." He grinned mischievously, and continued. "It was better after that. I guess I'd mainly figured out what they like."

The innocent smile on Alphonse's face was all too disconcerting given the topic of conversation, Edward decided. He swallowed, briefly glanced back down the road towards Winry's shop, and scratched his head.

"Let me tell you something about Winry," Alphonse started, rolling his eyes, "She's been waiting for this for who knows how long. Okay? Then it finally happens, and yeah, it's awkward. But that's fine, 'cause sometimes it is. But that's not what's gotten her upset. It's that you're not talking to her, because she's waiting for that chance for it to be perfect when it next happens..."

"_Next_ happens?"

"Oh yes."

"...But I screwed it up."

"And how long have you been a person to let one unsuccessful attempt stop him, hmm?"

That shut Edward up. Alphonse was right, it wasn't like him. But his confidence was just a little fragile, not to mention his pride had been effectively shattered.

"Look, you're not trying to impress her. You _love_ her. This is something you should be doing with a person you _love_, and you both work at it and it doesn't matter if it's awkward or not because you're in it together and it doesn't matter anymore. It's something you both learn from. So yes, you're gonna go home, you're gonna apologise for not talking to Winry, and you're going to love her up like never before and you're gonna do it _right._ Okay?"

There was that bright, innocent grin again. Edward raised his eyebrows. "Did you just _order_ me to go have sex?"

"I'd make an interesting military leader, wouldn't I?"

Edward just shook his head and sighed. "Have you always been assertive?"

"We're growing up," Alphonse replied, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder. Edward had to agree. It had been ten whole years since they'd attempted to bring their mother back to life, and back then he'd thought he'd pretty much grown up mostly back then. But they were still changing, still finding out new things about themselves. Perhaps it was down to being thrown into normalcy again, of course they would react differently.

He stood, brushing the dust from the bench off his ass and glancing up at the sun. It was getting late – Winry would make a start on dinner soon anyway. Perhaps after that. After that, he would see what happened.

* * *

The sun was setting earlier and earlier in the evenings now. It would be winter soon. Winry frowned – it didn't get very cold in Rush Valley, but she was still unenthusiastic about it. It would be colder in Resembool. Granny wouldn't like it. She tried to visit home a lot more often now Granny wasn't as feisty as she used to be, looking after her as best she could despite her protests to being fussed over. That was Granny alright.

She sighed, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear (where she still wore the piercings her boys had bought her so long ago). Despite how nicely everything had cleaned up after all this Promised Day business, she still often longed for the old days where she would sit on the porch with Den and Granny wouldn't always be tired and Edward and Alphonse would be sparring in the yard.

The old days where Edward would talk to her, no matter how gruff and rude he was. She wouldn't mind if he was gruff and rude _now_. As long as it would be something.

Once again, for the sixteenth night in a row, he simply left his plate by the sink after dinner, thanked her for cooking, and wandered upstairs, leaving Alphonse to stare after him worriedly (he'd given up even that tonight and had just ignored his impossible brother) and Winry to wonder how she could fix whatever it was she had done wrong.

Maybe he was mad at her. He'd done this before. He'd gotten mad at her and ignored her for days. She could probably guess what it was about. Maybe it had been just too soon for him. Worse, maybe she hadn't been any good for him. Yes, it had been awkward for both of them, but this was Edward Elric, a shining, golden hero. He only deserved the best and she was just a mechanic.

She placed his plate on the drying rack and sighed. Alphonse was instantly at her side with an arm around her in a comforting hug. He knew what was wrong. He always knew what was wrong. She leant into him, her head on his chest (he had gotten _crazy_ tall) and listened to his heartbeat while he held her. That was all she needed for now. Just to be held.

They stayed that way for a little while until Alphonse looked down at her, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You should go talk to him," he said softly, "I can finish up here for you."

She nodded, a little hesitant to let him go. He wasn't awkward. He wasn't uncertain and he wasn't insensitive and he, by all rights, was a perfect man. But he just wasn't Edward. She'd thought of all this before.

"It'll be alright, Winry."

"Yeah." She pulled away, and smiled at him, glancing towards the soap-filled sink for a moment. "Thanks, Al."

"Go set him straight. That's what you're good at."

She laughed then, and oh, Alphonse loved to hear her laugh. He let her go, up the stairs, and he turned to the pile of washing up by the sink, most of which dishes had been produced by Edward. He still ate a lot. He set himself to the task easily, keeping his ears pricked for anything he could hear through the thin ceiling. Sometimes, if not for his meddling, he didn't know where those two would be.

* * *

Winry looked down the hall, the doors leading to rooms she used for her patients, and wondered which one Edward would be in tonight. She bit her lip, and turned the other way, making for her bedroom on the other side. She flipped on the light, and realising she still had an apron on, untied it and draped it over the back of the rocking chair in the corner. Glancing down at her shirt, she noticed it had gotten pretty dusty itself, most likely a consequence of living in Rush Valley, and she made to tug it off over her head.

A soft, startled gasp interrupted her actions. Edward was perched on her bed, his eyes wide and looking as startled as he had done five years ago when almost the exact same thing had happened back in Resembool.

"E-Ed!" Winry stammered, leaving her top on, and glancing out of the door down the hall to the patients' rooms. "You...what are you doing here?"

Edward frowned. "In case you hadn't noticed, we _are_ going out..."

"I know that!" Winry snapped. Jeez, did he always have to be such a smartass? "You've just been..." She trailed off, knowing that there was no need to vocalise the rest. Edward knew what had happened as much as her.

There was a pregnant pause before Edward spoke again.

"Look, Win. I didn't mean to...I'm sorry I've been kind of distant, everything just...freaked me out a little, I guess." His eyes were downcast, and when he looked up at her, she could have sworn he looked like a little boy again, knowing he'd done something wrong and about to be scolded by his mother.

She sighed. "It's alright. I understand, I know how you react to things like this you're not used to."

"A-and..." Edward piped up again, turning an interesting shade of carmine, "Um. Al says...Al says it gets better...y'know, after a bit..."

Winry didn't say anything in response to that. She stayed where she was. She was fairly sure she knew what he was implying, but this was Edward. You could never be sure.

"...W-we should try it again."

There it was. Edward ducked his head again, fearing he'd crossed some sort of line. Dammit, he wasn't used to any of this! He hated, _hated _being in unfamiliar grounds with little to no knowledge of what to do or how to act. He hated being useless.

But she was moving towards him now, and he jerked his head up and alert for anything that might give her thoughts away. She simply sat down beside him, and stared at her lap for a moment before resting her hand on his thigh and leaning forwards to brush her lips against his.

"Yeah," she said softly, a little unsure as to what she was getting herself into, "we should." And then she kissed him. And he kissed back. And then there was a pause as Edward breathlessly asked if she was _sure_ it would be alright and was she still mad at him, but she hadn't even answered that with words.

He could just _see_ Alphonse smirking at him from downstairs.

Clothes were lost at some point, and it was a blur of blond hair and a tangle of limbs, synthetic and natural, and it _was_ awkward because that's just what they were. But it didn't matter so much. Because they were both dealing with it and they were together and exploring each other with touch and taste and they had no expectations but finding out more about the other.

First times were overrated, Edward decided.

Their second time had been the one worth remembering.

**END.**


End file.
